


Walking in a winter wonderland

by louhearted



Series: 25 Days of Christmas [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 25 Days of Christmas, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:05:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5345171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louhearted/pseuds/louhearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was spiky eyelashes, bleeding lips, red noses, and snow stars in dishevelled hair.<br/>It was long scarves, mitten soft touches, wet feet, and dragon puffs of air.<br/>It was winter and it was love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking in a winter wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so Lisa (@beatingfortwo) made me do this, and i love her very much a lot for kicking me in the butt like that. You're the real MVP here. Now only 500 words are allowed for these prompts. My word programme tells me that i have fulfilled that requirement, my ao3 preview thingy says i only have 498 words. Since I am too tired to understand the physics behind that I'm just going to go ahead and post it *shrugs*

It was spiky eyelashes, bleeding lips, red noses, and snow stars in dishevelled hair.  
It was long scarves, mitten soft touches, wet feet, and dragon puffs of air.  
It was winter and it was love.

“So what do you think?” Harry asked and squeezed Louis' neck, where his hand hid in stray wisps of hair.  
“I still think you're mad.”  
Harry pouted and leaned down. A soft kiss to the corner of Louis' mouth. Frost bruised lips on hot skin.  
“You must not tell lies, Louis.” He whispered and tugged at Louis' beanie.  
“You must stop believing that you're Harry Potter.” Louis laughed and danced out underneath from Harry's arm.  
“Never!”  
A loud laugh.  
“See? You're mad!”  
A soft giggle.  
A pout, and another kiss.  
“You're the maddest person I know.”  
Cold hands seeking refuge in warm back pockets, bodies entwined.  
“Stop squeezing my bum. That's not going to make me tell you what you want to hear. It just proves my point.”  
“Tell me this was a brilliant idea.”  
Louis grinned, leaned up, tippy-toe snow prints, and bit into the tip of Harry's nose.  
“It's a bloody -” He yelped when Harry squeezed his bum again.  
“Bloody brilliant.” He laughed and snuggled closer to Harry.  
“And bloody cold.”  
“We'll just have to find ways to keep warm then, right?”  
And Louis loved the mischievous glint in Harry's eyes.

And suddenly it was snow angels and snowball fights.  
It was the running and the laughter and the calm feeling of serenity under the clear night sky.

“Do you think- “ Louis interrupted himself, his hair suspended in its motion of carding through Harry's hair, speckles of snow glinting in between the waves of chestnut.  
Harry tilted his head up, his back pressed entirely to Louis' front, and hummed. Dropped a kiss to the soft skin beneath Louis' chin.  
“No it's silly.” Louis reprimanded himself and tugged on Harry's hair.  
“What's silly to a mad man?” Harry asked and lifted Louis's other hand to his own chest. Heart lines under a rope of eternity.  
“I just thought, that-” More dragon dust, gasps of fireless breath to find the courage to speak. “Do you think that snow, even though it's so deadly, so undeniably lethal to all living things, do you think it's still fitting to call it beautiful?”  
“I think,” A kiss was dropped to clammy hands. “that snow is deadly to those who blossom in bright day light, but it's a sanctuary to those who keep to the night. Snow is so beautiful because it seems everlasting, and we need it to last forever, because this,” He points around them, to the vast shimmering expanse of white and the ink black sky full of glitter. “This is where no one is watching.”  
“Snow is beautiful when no one is watching?” Louis asked, but he understood.

It was the softness, the stillness, the feeling of walking on cotton candy clouds.  
It was the feeling of not being watched.  
It was theirs.


End file.
